You CAN Help Haiti

Unless you have been living under a rock, you know that Haiti was rocked with a 7.0 earthquake on Tuesday that has caused incredible devastation, massive injuries and a death toll that is rising by the day. The small Caribbean nation of Haiti was already considered one of the poorest in the western hemisphere and was not equipped or prepared for such a disaster in the first place, so you can imagine that the result of such a dramatic natural occurrence, one that would be catastrophic even here in the United States, is wreaking complete havoc on these poor people and their country.

Many of us are sitting in our homes feeling helpless and wishing we could do more to help. Some of us are concerned but ignoring it and assuming there isn't anything we can do because the needy are so far away. And further still, some are completely unconcerned because it has nothing to do with their own immediate lives and problems. Well, I urge those people to open their eyes and realize that these people need all the help that they can get, and even though we are far away and may not have money or medical expertise to give, there is ALWAYS something we can do. The worst thing we can do is just sit by and watch our fellow man suffer and die because we just couldn't be bothered.

I, for one, don't have any money, that isn't a big secret. But I can spare $10. So I made my $10 donation yesterday. I will be calling around to the churches in my area to find one who does missions to Haiti to see what they need for supplies and/or clothing and food. And I am doing my part by talking, writing and tweeting about it, to be sure that people aren't closing their eyes or turning their heads away because it's too painful to think about or they don't want to make an effort to help. Think about it this way. What if it were you and your family suffering through this tragedy and someone took the time to donate a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt when you had no clothing to wear?

I will leave you with some links to resources, and please feel free to email me if you have any more useful links I can include in this post. You can donate to the cause through any of these organizations, as well as receive updates on the relief assistance.

American Red Cross
The Salvation Army
Partners in Health
NPR Article on Ways to Help in Haiti
Planting Peace
Conduit Mission
Doctors Without Borders

Also, my friend Kat, at 3 Bedroom Bungalow wrote about this as well today, so go ahead and check out her post as well.



Thank you.

I Eat Turkey In a Big Brown Shoe

The title of this post is inspired by my husband who loves the Turkey song by Adam Sandler because I couldn't think up a title for this post and yesterday him and his friend were going back and forth quoting the song. So gobble gobble goo, gobble gobble gickle honey. Thanks.

Today is the day of my obligatory Thanksgiving post because tomorrow I will be super busy impregnating myself with a massive food baby consisting of turkey, mashed potatoes, carrots, green beans, and corn bread. I already did a "things I am grateful for" post last week, so instead, today I am just going to list all the people I want to thank on this Thanksgiving. Man, I hope I don't leave anyone out. And if I leave you out, please email me and let me know and I will add you. Here goes:

1. My husband, for his love and support, for putting up with my craziness, ups and downs and the fact that sometimes I don't match up his socks right

2. My kids, for teaching me patience every day and giving me more love than I have ever imagined I could ever know.

3. My mother, who has always been the best mother a girl could EVER have, has saved my ass countless times and never, ever judged me.

4. My father, who has never given up helping us with our house and has taught us so much about home building, being an incredible husbandand father, and patience.

5. My sisters, who are all so different and have all given me so much in so many different ways. Finally, after 30 years, they are all beautiful friends and cherished family.

6. My in-laws, who have given me a roof over my head and have taught me tolerance and patience in truckloads.

7. My friends, who show me love and support every day, are so incredibly fun and are always there for me when I need them.

8. My fellow bloggers, who have welcomed me into a community that has helped me grow as a writer, a person and a friend. I would not be who I am today without them.

9. My stepson's school, who is going to help us out this Christmas with gifts for the kids because they found out that I lost my job. It will never cease to amaze me when people actually step up and help others out of the kindness of their own hearts.

10. The federal government for having unemployment, because even though it was a pain in the everloving ass signing up for it, I am very, very lucky to have it.

11. My former employer, for giving me a severance, even though I wouldn't need the severance if they hadn't let me go, but I won't go there.

12. The Jonas Brothers, just for being them.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I hope you take the time tomorrow to thank the people in your life that make it a little bit better.

And wear stretchy pants.

Help for Anissa Mayhew

This is taken from The Spohrs Are Multiplying, about Anissa Mayhew of Aiming Low, whom you may know from around the blogging community, Twitter, etc. She's hilariously funny, sweet and talented and tragically suffered a stroke yesterday:


12 pm Eastern UPDATE FROM ANISSA’S HUSBAND:

What we know is she had a massive stroke.

She bled into the brainstem and pons areas of the brain. She is no longer sedated but still unconcious and unresponsive. Vitals are mostly stable except for a lowgrade fever most likely due to the damage to the pons. The pons control the bodies ability to regulate temperature. She is still on a vent and it is unclear if she is capable of breathing on her own. She has had an mri/mra/ct today. An eeg is pending. We’re in a waiting game now for survival first, and ultimately for her to wake up.

—————

As you may have heard, Anissa, our beloved friend and leader at Aiming Low, suffered a stroke on Tuesday afternoon. She is in the hospital right now, in the ICU.

More than anything, Anissa needs your prayers and positive thoughts but to the many people in the Atlanta area who have offered help to the Mayhew family, we have set up a form for you to fill out so we can have everyone’s contact info in one place (please be assured your information will be kept private). If you are NOT in the Atlanta area but still want to help, you can also leave your information on that form.

Things that would be helpful right now are gift cards to restaurants and gift cards to the movies or to Blockbuster (to help keep the kids occupied) and gas/hotel gift cards for her extended family. We will be setting up a PO Box on Wednesday and posting the address here along with any updates. Please don’t send anything to the hospital or the Mayhew home. If you have questions, please email helpforanissa@gmail.com

We ask that you please respect the Mayhew family’s privacy by NOT calling the hospital and we thank you all SO MUCH for your outpouring of love and support for Anissa and her family.

With thanks and love,
The Aiming Low Team

UPDATE: An address has been set up to send cards and packages:
860 Johnson Ferry Road 140-184
Atlanta, GA 30342

The Love Affair

I have found myself consumed with a love affair of sorts. Not with another person, but one with my lifelong hobby of devouring books and losing myself in their fictional worlds. Hobby is not the right word; this interest of mine is so much more--more intense, more passionate, and more like a relationship. Sometimes it is a romantic, whimsical love affair. At other times it is a dangerous, frightening tryst that I know isn't good for me, but makes me feels so satisfied. And of course there is the guilty pleasure, the lover that isn't quite good enough for me, not even remotely challenging enough, but that brings me to a happy, simple place, devoid of responsibility and deep thought. I forgo sleep, food and anything else that takes precious time away from my beloved, and feel it pulling me back to it when I put it down to tend to life.

I am slipping into old patterns of immersing myself completely in a book and finding it difficult to extricate myself from its grips. The escape it offers me is intoxicating, too tempting to avoid and too fulfilling to stop. Now I can't get enough; I am piling my nightstand with books recommended to me, ones that I have heard about from who-knows-where and ones that just caught my eye in one of my many meandering browses through the bookstore. My drug, my addiction. My love affair.

So if you notice that I am not around much, you can almost be certain where I can be found. Tucked into the corner of my couch with a blanket thrown over my legs and a book in my lap. Enjoying my time in someone else's world and avoiding real life, this is where I will be. Who knows when I will be able to break the hold this lover has on me?

Although I need to pay more attention to reality, I am not quite sure I am ready to break it off just yet.

Opportunity, PLEASE Don't Pass Me By

From reading my blog, you might get the idea that I am a pretty self-confident person. Most of the time, however, I am not. I doubt myself constantly, wish I was better and strive for improvement in many areas in which I feel I am lacking. Severe insecurity plagues me, to the point where I wonder if people actually even like me and I end up obsessing over how others see me. It's not something I am proud of, and I have always wished that I could be one of those people that went about their days, oblivious to whether people like them or not and secure in their knowledge that they are the best person they can be.

Even when it comes to things that I know about myself, that I am sure of, I still have days where I wander around with thoughts that I am just not good enough. That I am a fraud, an imposter of sorts, one that would be found out at any moment and have their whole world come crashing down. I'm not really intelligent, not the way I want to be. I suck as a mother, lacking patience and creativity. I can't actually write, not in a way that surpasses mediocrity and stands out among other writers. And that is what brings me to this post today. I am severely doubting my ability to have a career in writing and it is totally fucking with my mojo.

As some of you may know, I was accepted into a training program for a writing job in which I am competing for one solitary position as a regular writer for About.com. The position entails having my very own page on About.com on "Baby's First Year," as well as a blog pertaining to the same topic. I am competing with who knows how many other writers for this opportunity, and I want it. No, I don't just want it. I NEED it. I need it to finally give me a flicker of hope that this can happen. That maybe, just maybe, I can make it in this highly competitive field of writing and do something I love while also helping to support my family. And I need it to finally be able to give my family the financial freedom we have always wanted, because they deserve it. Nothing would make me feel better than knowing that I am actually supporting my family and doing something to make them proud. I have been freelance writing for a couple of years now, and an editor for about seven, but the market is competitive and the pay is terrible, and sometimes I feel like I am walking against the wind, making small steps forward, only to be blown back again. In order to keep walking and not give up, exhausted and spent, I need to know that I am working so hard for so little for a reason. That it is a means to an end. The end being a real career, allowing me to thrive instead of just survive.

I sent in my first training piece two days ago. I wrote it, and re-wrote it, hated it, re-wrote it, and then let it sit on my laptop for about three hours while I went back and stared at it for minutes at a time, trying to decide if it was good enough to send. Images of the editor reading it and shaking his head, wondering why he chose me in the first place filled my head and my stomach churned with nerves and anxiety. The fear of letting him down, of proving myself unworthy scared the shit out of me, made me insecure, made my eyes swim with tears of frustration. I knew I just had to send it and leave it in the hands of the universe, but the thought that there was more I could do to make it better, to prove to the editor that I was the perfect one for the job, left me weary of letting it go.

Attach. Send. Done. Soon it would arrive in his inbox and that was that. It was out of my hands.

Now I just had to write five more pieces and go through the whole process all over again.

Lord help me.

We Drank, We Ate, We Were Merry, Time to Start Again

Well, it's over. Presents were ripped open with reckless abandon, too much food was consumed and too much wine was drunk. But it was fun, it was heartwarming, and most of all, it was what Christmas is supposed to be about--family. And of course, video games, The Littlest Pet Shop and the Poo Poo on the Potty baby doll. I'm pretty sure my kids got everything they asked for, and much, much more. This Christmas, which I foresaw as the saddest little budget conscious Christmas our family has ever experienced, turned out to be big, bold and not even the least bit sad or little. I think we found the spirit of Christmas, that entity that my mom always told me about when I was a wee lass, the force that appeared in December that, somehow, some way, always made Christmas possible, even when no one knew how it could be done.

So here I sit, sick as a dog, trying to catch up on all the work I haven't done this past week. I am tired, throat raw and burning, head spinning and achy. But, surprisingly, I am in a really good mood. I haven't quite figured out why, but I have some inklings. It could be that I look to my right and see the beautiful organizational job I did yesterday with all my daughter's new gifts and the thought of watching her play with them makes me smile. It might be because my stepson is at his mother's for another three days and I get to catch my breath and pretend to be a mom of one for just a little while, only to have him come back and hug me tightly and make me realize how much I missed him. Or, quite possibly, it could be because my husband and I have been screwing like bunnies for two weeks and we seem to have rediscovered a passion and appreciation for one another that has renewed our love for one another.

While all of these things are contributing to my good mood, I am pretty sure the main reason for my feeling of well-being is the new year approaching and a chance for a clean slate and new beginnings. 2008 wasn't the easiest of years. But it brought good, along with the bad, and it taught me about disappointment and loss in a way I had never experienced. It made me appreciate the things I have that are such blessings, and showed me that life is too short to be angry or resentful. I know that 2009 is going to teach me how to be happy, and appreciate having everything I have ever dreamed of, and not to take it for granted. After all, you can't fully be grateful for what you have unless you have been without. So, for that, I am thankful. I am thankful that the universe was wise enough to take away my space, my freedom and my security, so that I may fully appreciate it when it returns. After all, happiness is not the greatest blessing, gratefulness for what you have is.

I urge you all to look around and take stock of what you are grateful for. These things may not make you happy every day, and sometimes they may frustrate you to no end. But, at the end of the day, these things are what make our lives full and rich, and weave the complicated tapestry
that is our life. Your children may drive you crazy and make you pull out your hair, but they give you a reason to get up every morning, and every time they kiss you, hug you or tell you they love you, you realize why God put you on this earth. You may sweat and stress over making your monthly mortgage payment every month, but your home is what keeps you warm and holds your family close to one another every day. And you may hate your job or want to punch your boss in the face, but that job you despise allows you to put food and wine on the table so you may eat, drink and be merry with the ones you love.

Don't forget. Appreciate. Breathe in your life, hold it in and allow it to nourish your heart.

Then repeat.

The Highs and Lows and The Backseat of the Car

This weekend was one of highs and lows. My stomach found itself in varying degrees of upset, from butterflies of excitement to acidic unrest from the trials of life. My mind is spinning from the swift transformation from thrilled to nervous to downright devastated in a mere period of days. This rollercoaster of emotions has left me feeling raw and vulnerable, an open wound, painless unless grazed even the slightest bit, any minute trauma an impending disaster to my stability.

My husband and I renewed our excitement for one another. We had sex in the backseat of the car, we were caught in the act and we had discussions of new, thrilling possibilities. We spent time with one another that felt like we were back at the beginning of our relationship, first dating, the spark of a new partner re-ignited, the primal attraction and need for the other so strong it overcomes all inhibitions and modesty. It made me feel young. It made me feel sexy. It made me realize how much I love my husband and treasure how he looks at me like the first day he met me, but with even more depth and realization of who I am. For this, I am eternally grateful.

But just as a rollercoaster reaches its peak and sends adrenaline rushing through your veins, it must also continue downward. Real life exists, even when you feel you are living in a fantasy. It's a hard fall from the ecstasy of love to the reality of not enough. Not enough time. Not enough patience. Not enough money. How do we get through it? How will we buy Christmas gifts for the children? How will we pay the mortgage? The realization of being part of a national crisis that I would have preferred to be left out of and not knowing how to dig to the surface bubbles my stomach's acid and makes me feel dizzy with worry.

But new and old friends send me words of encouragement. People I never thought I would hear from again, whom I have held so dear, frozen in time in my memory, have been unfrozen and remind me that I am not alone. My heart swells with happiness and appreciation for the technology that has allowed me to find these pieces of my life that I thought would never return. Memories, good and bad, wash over my mind, uncovering feelings long forgotten, bittersweet and sometimes faded, but always a part of the life that has made me who I am today.

This life has lead to right now--the good and bad decisions, the circumstances that have affected where I find myself at this moment. I have no idea where it will lead, and it's terrifying. I am held together by a thread, so fine and taut. For now I do what I can. I will do my work today, just hoping the thread holds tight. I will hold the love for my husband, my children and my friends close to my heart to help keep it beating. And I will wait for the next high to come.

Because what else can I do?

Stop. Breathe. There, That's Better

Yesterday started out as a really crappy day. Following a sleepless night up with my little one scaring away monsters, in which I found a tick and a big red rash on my leg, it continued with finding out it would be two to three weeks before I would get my laptop back from the shop and a trip to the doctor to find out that I have Lyme disease.

Ah, the inhumanity of it all.

As I got home from our adventures out in the real world, my daughter looked at me, sleep and love thickening her gaze and said "Mommy, rest on the couch with me."

I thought of all the work I was supposed to do. I thought about the dishes in the sink and the dirty laundry piled to overflowing in the hamper, and I realized that my wise little sage of a daughter knew what I needed better than I did. I needed to let go of the vice grip on myself, dial down the pressure I was applying, and take a breath.

A deep, deep breath. IN...OUT. I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around her tiny little frame (how can something so small carry so much wisdom?) and positioned myself on the couch with just the right amount of pillows so that I felt like I was floating. My muscles relaxed and I felt like someone had removed a hat that was too small for my head as I sank deep into the sanctity of my couch.

There were moments when I looked over at the computer, sitting there so patiently waiting for me to come back to work. More than once I almost hopped up and started cleaning, organizing or straightening something, but each time I resisted and snuggled in closer to the warm fuzziness of my daughter's body heat.

At one point my daughter got off the couch and found two crowns amidst her dress-up clothes. She put one on her little head and placed the other on mine. "I'm a princess," she said. "And you are the queen."

I smiled and wore my crown with pride. How could I possibly be melancholy with this little ball of joy in my presence? My work could wait, feeling bad for myself was a waste of this precious time and the cleaning and stress of life was only a distraction from the beauty of this snapshot in time where I was completely relaxed, breathing and enjoying being a mother.

My daughter continued to decorate me with various combinations of mardi gras beads, bracelets and bangles and then topped it all off with the best bling of all--a princess' kiss placed gently on the queen's head.

I sighed and realized that the best gift of all could be someone wiser than you opening your eyes to what is right in front of you, and making you appreciate it. Have you breathed today? It could just change everything. All mommies are queens, and they all deserve to breathe once in a while.

So said the queen. And so it shall be.

And Now For Something Completely Different!

Well, in the wake of my two Humor Carnival posts, I thought I would switch gears a little and write about something a little more serious, a little more poignant and a lot closer to my heart.

My daughter.

I am just flabbergasted at how infatuated with her I still am today, two and a half years after her birth. When she was first born, I would sit for hours, just watching her sleep, her face so peaceful and perfect. I tried to memorize the curves of her baby cheeks, her baby nose and the placement of the fuzz on her little baby head. Now, those memories are faded and worn, and I find myself searching the deepest recesses of my brain to find the wrinkle where those details are hiding. But, I also find myself doing the same thing with my daughter today, and it still amazes me.

I can still stare at my daughter and, after all this time of being a mother to her, can't believe that she was made from me. Although her nine month gestation was all too real, and I can still feel the kicks of her feet in my ribcage, it still seems surreal that I carried her around inside of me and gave birth to her so effortlessly. How could my body know what to do? How is it that she made her way into the world like a wise old sage and changed my life with one breath and a wail? Surely there is some kind of magic involved, for how can we, as humans, be so fallible, yet create such perfection?

This afternoon I found myself swelling with joy and pride and, yes, disbelief, as I looked at my daughter--her unblemished little face, crowned by golden silky tendrils, her smile so big and genuine. This is my baby girl? I am still waiting to wake up from this dream of motherhood, to find that somehow these past two and a half years were all a figment of my imagination. How else could I have ended up with this perfect little creature--this creature that feels like she is still a part of me, and if she were not there, I would lose myself?

To this day, I am still excited to see her in the morning, after a long night of her absence. I miss her terribly when she is away from me, with an ache that starts in my belly and travels to my heart until I feel my heart won't pump until I see her again. I still love touching her face, feeling the softness of her skin, running my fingers through her hair, dressing her, bathing her, holding her hand, kissing her goodnight. And when she utters those four words "I love you Mommy," my heart still grows to three times its size and sometimes, yes sometimes, I even well up with tears.

How can I still feel this way after two and a half years?

I don't know. But I hope I can hang on to it for just a little while longer.

Or forever.

It Does Not Make Me a Bad Mommy...

It does not make me a bad mommy that...

...I sometimes let my children eat gross, non breakfast foods like macaroni and cheese and hot dogs for breakfast, just because they WILL NOT eat anything else...

...I let my kid eat her boogers because it's just not worth the fight...

...Occasionally I have to leave the room and ignore my children's whines and cries because I have just had enough...

...I let my daughter sit in the dirty laundry hamper and play with her doll because at least she is QUIET!...

...Every once in a while, I wish I was single and child free again, just for a moment...

...I don't always know what I am doing or that what I am doing is the right thing...

...Sometimes I do the WRONG thing, and I know it...

...I am not perfect.

But here is what DOES make me a GOOD mommy--

I love my children with all my heart and soul.

I would do ANYTHING for them.

I try every day to be a better mother...

and although I am not perfect, they will learn from my mistakes and be even better than me someday.

This post is dedicated to my mother, who taught me how to be the mom that I am today. And I think I turned out pretty good. Thanks Mom.

Generation MySpace

Point and click...

Upload, download...

Chat, search engine, e-mail...

This is all vocabulary that NONE of us possessed 20 years ago. I sometimes marvel at how quickly the internet has become such a big part of our lives, and especially our children's lives. They do not remember a time when this vocabulary wasn't a staple in their daily conversations. We are raising an entire generation of children who will never know the joys of looking up a book in the card catalog using the Dewey Decimal system. When they need a book at the library, they type it into the search box and a list of matching books and where they are located pops up on the screen. Voila! Instant gratification. If you can remember sifting through the cards at the library, and you now have a child between the ages of 2 and 21 who knows as much, if not more, than you about computers and the world wide web (and has never even heard of this Dewey Decimal dude), then you are a proud parent of Generation MySpace.

I happen to be one of those parents. I have an 8-year-old that can sit at the computer, turn it on, log in and do things ranging from playing cd-rom games to surfing the internet. He began going on the computer when he was 2 years old, and he has never looked back. Now, at this point in time, we have parental blocks on the computer, and he never strays away from CartooonNetwork.com or ToonTown, but there will come a day when he is lured into the appealing and popular world of social networking sites like MySpace, Facebook and a litany of others.

Last night as my husband and I were surfing the channels for something to watch, we came across a Frontline report called Growing up Online. The whole program was devoted to this sub-culture of teenagers that are completely addicted and wholly consumed with online interaction with their friends and/or strangers. It probed the actions of teenagers online on sites such as MySpace and Facebook. Now, I will admit that I myself have a MySpace and have been thinking about a Facebook, but my reasons for having these are dramatically different from those of teenagers today. Instead of just wanting to connect with friends and having a place to keep in touch, teenagers are in essence "living their lives online" on these sites. I am not naive, I knew the rising reliance in teenagers on the internet, but I admit that I was shocked at some of the comments I heard from the teenagers on this program. Not only are they chatting with their friends and sending photos, they are connecting with perfect strangers (including sending nude or half nude photos--my stomach is lurching) and being recommended pornographic or completely inappropriate sites to "check out." Don't even get me started about the YouTube craze of recording disturbing scenes on their cell phones and posting them online, as in the case of a fight that broke out in a high school that got caught on tape. Does this not strike anyone else as detrimental to the development of our children? Sure, I did my share of looking at things I wasn't supposed to look at and doing things I wasn't supposed to do during my teenage years, but this technological age has brought the capability of teenagers to do this to a whole new level.

Then there are the anorexic girls that are joining groups online that encourage each other not to eat and stare at pictures of skeletal women to "motivate" themselves to stick on their diet. Great, like there aren't enough messages being sent on television and in magazines to girls promoting low self-esteem, now we have rah-rah cheerleading sections on the internet devoted to it. We also have the cyber bullies, who make it their life's work to find young, meek, unpopular kids with low self-worth to torment and torture in cyber space. On this program, one boy (13 years old!) committed suicide because of the bullying he was the recipient of online. Disgraceful. Sickening. There are so many words that come to mind, I just can't wrap my brain around it. Lastly, we have the girl that everyone calls a "freak" at school who develops an online personality at 14 to live an alter life of adoration as a self proclaimed "model." Really what she was doing was posting pictures of herself in lingerie (or nothing at all) and reveling in the positive feedback she received from perverts and sex offenders. Fabulous. I am sure all her pseudo-friends and followers online are wonderful support in her life when she needs it. How can these kids learn how to interact with people when they barely do it?

These kids can't hold a serious conversation in person. They search for other nameless kids with typical qualities to have "online" relationships with, but never have the real life experience that they need to function in society. But, worst of all, they feel like it is their RIGHT to have privacy from their teachers and parents when it comes to their online identities. This has become such a way of life for them that they can't even picture their lives without it.

How do we, as parents, deal with this? Especially without alienating our children to the point that they won't even speak to us anymore. One zealous mother in the program who was head of the PTO was diligent in monitoring her kids' usage of the internet and even helped other parents figure out what their kids were doing online. She seemed like a great parent that really paid attention to her kids and tried to be open with them. Her son hated her. He was so resentful of her attempts at trying to monitor what he was doing for his safety that he completely cut her out of his life. Now, I know that it is a normal teenage affliction to "hate" your parents and want them to butt out of your stinkin' life, but come on. When did we, as parents, lose all respect and the ability to keep our kids out of trouble without them feeling like we are destroying their lives?

There is always the argument that if the child is brought up right, and the parents always have open lines of communication without being judgmental, ya-da, ya-da, ya-da, that the kids will stay out of trouble online naturally. I think that is a load of SHIT. Yes, absolutely, they are much LESS likely to get themselves into trouble in this situation; but I also think that there are just as many kids out there that were brought up in great situations that are doing stupid-ass stuff on the internet and setting themselves up for trouble. It is the society we live in today. It is the outlook that they can do anything they want online and nobody will know except the people they want to know. It is the ignorance and lack of life experience that EVERY teenager possesses that spurs them on to seek attention and excitement on the internet.

The internet has given our kids a playground to try on adult personas and behaviors, without necessarily having to be accountable for their actions. This is a scary situation. I know that I personally will do everything in my power to teach my kids internet safety, how to be responsible, what is right and wrong, and that I have eyes everywhere so they better be f-ing careful where they web surf, but I just don't know if that is going to be enough. Apart from not having a computer in the house, I am not sure what else to do. I guess we have to hold our breaths, unleash them into the wild and hope they make the right decisions. And I hope they do--because it's a jungle out there.